


HSWC 2014 Bonus Round Fills

by cinderrain



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aradia Megido♦Sollux Captor - Freeform, Dave Strider♥Jade Harley - Freeform, Dave Strider♥Terezi Pyrope - Freeform, Davesprite♠GCAT, Davesprite♥Kanaya Maryam, Dirk Strider♦Roxy Lalonde - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Feferi Peixes♦Vriska Serket, Gamzee Makara♦Karkat Vantas - Freeform, Gen, Grimdark Rose Lalonde♥John Egbert, Jade Harley♥Karkat Vantas - Freeform, Jane Crocker♣Dirk Strider♣Gamzee Makara, Jane Crocker♥Nepeta Leijon, Jane Crocker♥Rose Lalonde, John Egbert♥Jade Harley♥Rose Lalonde♥Dave Strider, John Egbert♥Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert♦Rose Lalonde - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Rose Lalonde♥John Egbert, Terezi Pyrope♥Vriska Serket - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 15,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderrain/pseuds/cinderrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Team Gamzee♣Rose♣Terezi)<br/>Collection of bonus round fills. </p><p>(Warning: Only triggers in the HSWC Content Tags list are mentioned - others may be accidentally left out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aranea & Gamzee, mind control experimentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 2: Non-English Words  
> Prompted by strangerhere  
> "Gamzee &/ Aranea  
> Versuchskaninchen (German) - literally: experimental bunny, person or animal you try something on/with that you are not yet very good or experimented in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: none  
> Word Count: 420  
> Additional Tags: Mind control, mentions of substance abuse and mental health issues

He's there, and he's easy. Easy because, from what you've managed to gather, he's been through quite the personality shifts lately and no one - not even his moirail - would question one or two more. Easy because you don't know him, and you've never held Makaras in the highest regard anyway. Easy because he's in the proper position to make a difference in your plans - you could say that he's one of the most important characters, even.  
  
So there is hardly a second thought before you try. (What doubts there are consist only of last-minute calculations as to whether or not anyone would truly figure out what you're doing.) You take hold of him and tell him the things you want, and he is your puppet.   
  
It's been a while since your last attempt to control something living - been a while since you were alive, yourself. So it takes some shifting around to get it right, but after that it runs as smoothly as you could have hoped for. His thinkpan has already suffered negative influences, both from substance abuse and delusion, so it takes little effort to keep control of him.   
  
But, sometimes, you have to remind yourself of your end, and that the means don't matter. You have to remind yourself that you are not fond of Makaras, and you don't know this one in particular anyway. (So you shouldn't have to notice that the little Cancer Meenah sets her sights on has his dreambubble diamond key set to this Makara's shade. You shouldn't care that he's hurting the Seer of Mind; you should be grateful for that boost to your plan.)  
  
You pretend that all these road bumps along the way that trip up your certainty are in fact planned, and they all contribute to the end anyway so you forget about the means.   
  
Once, before the reveal of your intentions, you let slip some of your grip on his mind, and he bursts out with surprise. You express disgust, but really you're just relieved - for the reminder of your indifference, for a reason to keep going as you have so far.   
  
And so you do, ignoring those doubts that wiggle out again when the Seer returns to cry and throw herself at your puppet. (Your brick wall, for all that he's reacting - all that he's allowed to react.)  
  
You keep going as you have so far, and it will end in a way that justifies these means if it  _kills_  you.


	2. Jade♥Karkat, not always my fault if everything is broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 2: Non-English Words  
> Prompted by knightofdoom  
> "Karkat<3Jade   
> Ce n'est pas toujours ma faute si touts les choses sont cassees -- "It's not always my fault if everything is broken.""

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of death  
> Word Count: 146  
> Additional Tags: none

  
The blame's not mine - your belief unspoken -   
that leaders are burdened with lives at stake  
and those of us still alive are broken  
  
My dreams were destroyed before I'd woken  
"Though he's my devil, he's the one who'll take;   
the blame's not mine," your belief unspoken  
  
Some of my words to you are misspoken  
For you I will try, competence I'll fake  
as those of us still alive are broken  
  
You beg me not to leave you heartbroken  
I can't keep promises, but I can make  
them. Blame's not mine;  _your_  beliefs unspoken  
  
Please tell me you're there, leave me a token  
Or passwords to guess at, for timelines' sake  
though those of us still alive are broken  
  
I'm a failure who's often outspoken  
Everyone's dead, everything's a mistake  
The blame's not mine: your belief unspoken  
but those of us still alive are broken. 


	3. Davesprite♥Kanaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 2: Non-English Words  
> Prompted by paual  
> "Davesprite♥Kanaya  
> Komorebi (Japanese): Sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Small mention of blood, death (being undead)  
> Word Count: 501  
> Additional Tags: none

It is a new world, shiny and pretty and all those useless things, and he wishes he didn't end up being alive.   
  
It is a beautiful place, glowing like her skin, and she wishes she wasn't quite so dead.   
  
In some ways, he had expected this. He wasn't - still isn't - prepared for it, though. All this gleaming reward, and he'd done nothing to contribute to the earning of it. He wonders if he is part of the reward and not one of the rewarded, because keeping him around for a plaything makes more sense than any legitimate winning the game on his part.   
  
It is so much harder to appreciate the wonders of a new world when she keeps accidentally glowing and disrupting the wildlife or remembering that she is the only player who wasn't revived. She didn't think she would mind it so much, at first. She guesses she does, though. She feels unnatural when everyone else has been returned to some semblance of normal.   
  
She can't complain to anyone about it, because she knows they would just ask why, because isn't this what she always wanted, always dreamed of? (Oh, but wriggler dreams can not be relied on. Didn't Tavros want to fly, and where did that leave him?)  
  
He can't ask for comfort because Dave (the real one) is taking up all the others' Dave tolerance threshold, and it isn't Striderly to ask for these things anyway.   
  
He bumps into her a little ways away from the little base camp the others set up, and his first thought is to ask her what she's doing this far away from them. (They  _are_  her friends, in the way that they are Dave's friends and not Davesprite's.)  
  
She sees him before he walks into her, but she was too preoccupied with trying to remember how not to glow so brightly and fails to avoid the collision. She wonders why he's here, because he has his legs back and his wings are gone, so he's  _normal_ , isn't he?  
  
Then he notices her fang-in-lip frustration, and rethinks the way her glow sometimes flickers (he'd never thought that it was out of her control before).   
  
Then she sees the orange he wears around his wrist, so they don't confuse him with the other one.   
  
They stay silent.   
  
His hand makes an aborted move towards her face - for what, he's not sure. To unhook that tooth with green starting to pool around it?  
  
She catches the half-raised arm and slips off the loop of cloth, muttering something about how the colour clashes with the rest of his outfit.   
  
She leaves her hand in his while they sit and watch the patterns the sun makes on the ground, through the leaves. Her glow fades slowly as she forgets to hate the sun, and he watches a small crow's shadow cut through the shifting grays and golds on the fallen leaves and dirt.   
  
They sit and enjoy existing, just for a little bit.


	4. Doomed!Dave/Doomed!Rose, ceasing to exist in a way that is painful to others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 2: Non-English Words  
> Prompted by pyrokineticvampire  
> "doomed timeline!dave/doomed timeline!rose  
> гибель/gibel (russian): not death, not suicide, but simply ceasing to exist; deteriorating in a way that is painful for others; death, destruction, ruin"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Canon character death (cessation of existence)  
> Word Count: 518  
> Additional Tags: none

You try not to think about the Rose you are leaving behind, and instead think ahead to the Rose and John and Jade you are going to save. You remind yourself that they are both Rose, and four months really can't change anyone all that much.   
  
They are both Rose, and that's why it hurts. To think of her and her psychoanalyzing, how she figured it out and played the rain, how she shared moments with you in that dead timeline and just mourned for yourselves, and the ones you couldn't save.  
  
Those ones are the reason why you are doing this. That John and that Jade are the reason you are leaving your Rose behind.   
  
You try not to think of Rose - the Rose who is the same as the one you are going to, but is her own person in her own right - sitting alive in a dying timeline and  _afraid_  of what will come. You try not to imagine your Rose, the one who is not the same as the other one and never will be, uncertain of the future. (Roses are not afraid, it is not a thing that they do. Roses are Seers of Light, and uncertainty of the future should not happen. Roses aren't supposed to be afraid.)  
  
You comfort yourself by reminding yourself - if the going to sleep and merging thing works out - when, actually, not if - then there will be pieces of your Rose in this four-months younger one.   
  
(Later, when you are no longer fully you and Rose has gone and you hear how Rose had gone and done something stupid, made herself dark and the opposite of her aspect, you think to yourself that your Rose wouldn't have done something that foolish. Or maybe she would have - but that is something you would have liked for her to choose for herself, and not as a small part in the back of this Rose's mind.)  
  
There is the clock ticking in your head, counting out the seconds that this timeline has been doomed, and you wish you weren't leaving so suddenly, so rashly. But time travel is not done rationally, and frankly you can't stand another second of staying here and knowing you are doomed and not being able to fix it  _yet_.   
  
Even if those seconds mean more time with your Rose, more time she can stay alive. It's borrowed time only, and that's not good enough.   
  
(Rose would have been there to stop you from becoming fake bird Dave. You sometimes wish you'd stopped existing with her, because then, at least, you would have company.)  
  
You try not to imagine what it would be like to stop existing - would it be painful, or all-of-a-sudden quick, before you can be ready for it? You don't like the idea of Rose caught off-guard, having her composure broken. Then again, this isn't something you can really be ready for.   
  
You try not to think of any of those things as you say a quick goodbye and rewind.   
  
You try, and you fail miserably.


	5. Gamzee♦Karkat, murdering spree reversed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by littleshopofhoruss  
> "Gamzee♦Karkat  
> AU where Karkat is the one who goes on a killing spree."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Blood, Character Death  
> Word Count: 753

You should've guessed, you should've known, you all up and motherfucking should have gotten your notice on how your palecrush seemed all about to  _murder a motherfucker_. There were signs all laid out, plain to see, and you never took any notice because you were all wrapped up in your own little issues (like going off the sopor - God, did that make your head hurt).   
  
You should've seen the way he would tense all more than he usually would and how the frustration was packed in his hands and head and core, ready to burst. And you, you were just preoccupied with the sopor. You wouldn't understand how a troll could be so caught up about something that he'd run out of if you hadn't wasted nearly all your time on the meteor doing just that.   
  
And so, it was your fault.   
  
Your fault that now Karkat, your Karkat who had never turned you away even when you were rambling on about nothing at all and he didn't give the slightest of fucks; your Karkat, who would be the brightest little leader that your group could look up to; your Karkat, yours, has snapped.   
  
You can't blame him - all that planning and leading all ending up for naught, and then he's expected to do more leading, and he pushes himself so much and all these other motherfuckers aren't helping one bit with their interpersonal drama that a leader is supposed to sort out.   
  
What the fuck is a palecrush for if not the wanting in your bones to pacify or be pacified? And he's always been the angry one, that bundled up thing of rage, and before this it was all well-meaning anger or empty spitting to cover up something else, but now -  
  
It might have been the blood that was the last straw (you don't know, because you weren't there for him). Or it could have been Terezi's infatuation with the human. It could have been the unrequited hatecrush on the other human.   
  
But, well, you know when it fell apart. He'd messaged you then, messaged  _you_  and you still don't know why it was you but you are almost kind of glad he did. Not glad for the contents of the message (some ranty mess about how much of a fuckup he was and that if they all knew what he was now he might as well kill them all before they killed him) but for the fact that it was you.   
  
Also, it took you a few tries to understand that message. Damaged thinkpan, and all. The "kill them all" part was what caught you up, because that didn't seem like a metaphor or anything at all - it was surprisingly straight-up.   
  
And then you find out from Tavros what he meant by the "what I am" bit, and some part of you thinks it just figures, just had to be the one thing you never understood but was apparently supposed to give many fucks about (according to Equius, at least). Never according to Karkat, now that you think about it, even though the nubby motherfucker always had his opinions on what you should be giving a fuck about.   
  
All these things crowd your thinkpan as you stumble through the halls, and under it all is a repeated litany of  _fuck, fuck, fuck_  and  _where is he_  and a longing for your lusus and the sopor.   
  
When you get there, it's late. Not too late, but his sickles are splattered with fuchsia and blue and green. Two motherfuckers he would've felt threatened by, his blood being what it is, and one poor girl who had been all up and getting her revenge for a palemate.   
  
You stop in the doorway and watch his frantic eyes. You need to say something, anything, to reassure him that it's okay and you don't care about his blood, that's not what matters, but. But your pan is just that vital bit too slow and by the time it clears your Karkat has his sickle swinging at the highblood who saw the murdered bodies and his mutant blood and surely, surely, will hate him now. And you try to protest that, no, he's got it all wrong and you're supposed to be protecting him he doesn't need to protect himself  _from you_  but it comes out as a choking gurgle as cold metal finds its target in your neck.   
  
Fear is what you see in his eyes last. Fear, not anger.


	6. Jade/Rose, werewolf advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by phrenotobe  
> "Jade/Rose  
> Being supernatural is hard on the clothes, and Rose is finding it difficult to adjust to life as a Werewolf. She seeks help from the best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 423

There is a soft knock at the door. "Jade?"  
  
"Come in."  
  
She's surprised to see Rose. They haven't spoken in a while - not intentionally, of course - and she'd had to hear from John who'd heard from Dave of Rose's new... situation. Lycanthropy. The door slides open, and Jade twitches her nose at the wolf-scent that mingles with the familiar Rose-smell. So John hadn't been kidding.   
  
"Hello. Sorry if I've interrupted anything."  
  
"Oh, no, you're fine! I was just writing down some things for Dave. Don't worry about it."  
  
Rose settles down in the chair facing Jade, casting her eyes over the mess of papers on the desk. A corner of her mouth tips up. "Of course, Dave can wait."  
  
"Of course!" Jade nods. "He's not even paying me back in favours this time, so it's not important." She looks Rose over. The girl doesn't appear distressed or unhappy at all, only slightly discomforted, and Jade wonders what she came for.   
  
"Could I perhaps... solicit some advice?"  
  
Jade blinks. "Sure, I guess." She doesn't think there's anything, really, that she knows and Rose doesn't, but if it makes her happy. "What is it?"  
  
Rose shifts, nervousness only showing in the way she fidgets briefly with her hair and gnaws subtly on the inside of her lip. The rest of her is a calm picture of dignified lady. "This may be a little, uh. Awkward."  
  
Jade smiles reassuringly. "Aww, can't be any worse than the time John asked me where my clothes go when I transform!"  
  
Rose seems to be torn between laughing and looking away. She settles for clearing her throat. "Actually..."  
  
Jade tilts her head, questioning. "Yes?"  
  
"That's exactly what I was going to ask," Rose admits with an apologetic grin.   
  
Jade bursts out into giggles. "Oh, wow, okay then! That's good? Good because it's easy to answer but it's bad because we're both going pink and I can't tell if it's from laughing or embarrassment."  
  
When they both calm down a little, Jade lays a hand on Rose's. "It's all right, I won't poke fun if you come to me for questions in the future. I was just - well, surprised, I guess."  
  
"So where  _do_  they go?" Rose repeats, raising an eyebrow and making Jade dissolve into giggles again. "Only I've been having trouble not destroying them, and seeing as how Dave has acquired an unfortunate habit of accidentally walking in on me after I transform back..."  
  
"I'll help you next moon, promise." Jade grins. "You came to the right person."


	7. Gamzee♦Karkat, food stands and mob hitmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by nemesis_gear  
> "Gamzee/Karkat  
> Gamzee is just a nice deadbeat who owns a food stand in New York and spends his time getting wasted and then suddenly he's being rushed by a mob hit man who thinks Gamzee is the boss of a rival mob? He won't let Gamzee go until they find Gamzee's mysterious double, you say? And to make matters worth, the tiny hit man is actually kind of adorable? My, my, my."
> 
> Alternatively titled: Karkat Was Clearly Raised by Spades Slick (courtesy of morriganfearn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of death, mentions of mentions of violence  
> Word Count: 419

Gamzee had been on his way to restock his hot dog buns when an arm took hold of his collar and pinned him up against an alley wall. He blinked, four times, slowly. Then he looked down and there was a tiny somebody who he'd never met before, snarling up at him and oh hey that was a knife and knives are dangerously pointy. He told his attacker as much, and was rewarded with a hiss and increased pressure on his collarbone.   
  
"I am not your 'little buddy'! I suggest you stop playing dumb and confirm your identity or I'll -" Gamzee zoned out a bit because his attention span couldn't accommodate three solid minutes of spitting nonsense into his face, especially as every fifth word was "fuck" and a lot of the things he was promising sounded a good bit uncomfortable and rather painful.   
  
A firm shake brought him back. "Sorry, dude, I didn't catch a lot of that. Could you repeat the question?"  
  
The stranger looked ready to explode with wanting to facepalm or sigh or just jam the knife into Gamzee's gut already and properly eviscerate him because he's "not fucking little, damnit!" but something held him back. He settled for groaning and slumping down, letting go to drag a hand over his face.   
  
"You're really not him, are you?"  
  
"Who?" Gamzee stared blankly. "I dunno, I don't think I'm all up and being any motherfuckers other than myself recently. I could check, if you want?" he offered, uncertainty clouding his brow.   
  
The attacker seemed to be muttering a string of curses from behind his hand, peppered throughout with phrases like " _why_  does my first assassination have to turn out like  _this_ " and "what the fuck is even going on fuck my life".   
  
Gamzee offered him a wavering smile. "I can all up and get my helping on for looking for whoever you want to get your meet up on at?"  
  
"I have no fucking clue what you just said, but sure. Why not. If you tag along and we end up not finding him I can kill you instead and pretend you're him. Yeah. That'll work." He looked up. "Deal?"  
  
Gamzee shrugged. "Not motherfucking sure of half the words you're sprouting at me anyhow either, bro. But yeah, if you're needing a favour?"  
  
He was answered with a long-suffering sigh. "Oh my God do you not realize I just said I was going to kill you?" Gamzee blinks at him owlishly. "Let's just go."


	8. Dave♥Jade, daycare and pet shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by meroune  
> "Dave♥Jade  
> Dave gets what he would call an ironic job at a daycare and falls for the overzealous pet shop owner next door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Tags: None  
> Word Count: 546

It strikes you as unfair, that she owns a pet shop and is still so good with kids. You're the one having to babysit the little idiots, and she just wanders over from next door and they're all over her? What of your somewhat-patient attempts to get them to bed, to clean them up enough to not have bits of snack all over their faces? What of the throw-up, and the screaming, and the pandemonium? (Sometimes you regret taking this job. It's not worth the ironies.)  
  
She's got a friendly smile on, and she's all soft edges and hair. You stand slightly off to the side with a disapproving frown and crossed arms composed of too many elbows. She looks up from greeting the kids to call out a "hi!" You keep your face as impassive as you can and nod a greeting in return.   
  
You visit her the next day, after your shift. It's for revenge, you tell yourself, because you know you are good with dogs and kittens and things. You find her in the back of the store, tending to a crow with a broken wing, and she looks up and seems happy to see you.   
  
That can't be right, you only just met yesterday. And that wasn't even properly meeting. No introductions.   
  
"Hey," you find yourself saying. "Dave Strider." You reach out a hand for her to shake.   
  
Her smile widens into a grin and she takes the offered hand. "Jade Harley."   
  
Once you've initiated conversation, she seems to be content to uphold it. She pratters on about what nice kids you have (as if they're actually yours - you snort at that and she brightens); about how the kittens and puppies can get to be quite a handful at times, and she imagines that looking after children would be much the same; about how she has only recently moved to America.   
  
This last bit intrigues you, and you ask after it, and soon enough - and to your surprise - your resulting conversation about islands and independence takes you well into the evening.   
  
The animals adore you when she takes you to show you them, as you'd expected, and she seems pleased. By the time you leave it's dark out, and there are even half-hearted promises to keep in touch, even though you work right next door to each other.   
  
The next day is Saturday, but by the time it's Monday again she's there, and you wonder briefly  _doesn't she have a store to manage_  but then she's laughing and leading the kids in a rousing game of hide-and-seek that you can't help but join in on. (Someone's got to keep an eye on them, right?)  
  
After work you stop by to check how the crow's doing, and she seems delighted that you'd remembered and cared. She lets you feed him while she goes to attend to a customer.   
  
You settle into this routine and after a while you realize that you're opening up to her more than you would for almost anyone, and this surprises you into accidentally asking her out.   
  
She laughs and says "it's about time, Strider!" and drags you by the arm to a place she knows and you let her lead the conversation and the future.


	9. Eridan/Rose, ghost in a bathtub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by nemesis_gear  
> "Eridan/Rose  
> In which Eridan is a ghost haunting a bathtub and Rose is working on her extracurriculars for that spiritualist's license she wants so much. Or: in which Rose tries to exorcize a ghost and he's a complete pain about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Tags: Mentions of Death  
> Word Count: 500

"Okay, no, wait," he warbles, and you pause in your attempt to exorcise him.   
  
"What is it?" You try not to seem too impatient, but you have to huff out a breath in exasperation when he hesitates, groping for something, anything, to stall with. "Get on with it, please," you sigh.   
  
"Aren't you wondering why I'm haunting a bathtub?" He looks triumphantly smug when he finally does settle on a topic, and you are torn between admitting that yes, you are wondering and marveling at how he decides on the most inane subject possible when trying to prolong his existence.   
  
No harm in humouring him, you suppose. "Why, then?" You don't expect much and you don't get much - he starts into a rant about when he was alive and he had a friend who liked swimming more than anything but tragically drowned in her bathtub; she'd passed on peacefully but he figured that since he was staying around anyway for other unfinished business he may as well haunt a bathtub in solidarity for her. You nod at the appropriate moments and make little humming noises in the back of your throat, but really you're only half listening. You're more distracted by the fact that he'd mutated fins during his time as a spirit.   
  
"... and you're not even listening, are you," he trails off, and all you can notice is the way his fins droop like a puppy's ears would. 

"Who says I'm not?" It's partly the truth because you were partly listening, you justify to yourself. "Now that I have been enlightened, may I proceed in the process of exorcising you?" You raise a polite eyebrow.   
  
He winces at the penultimate word. "Aww, do you have to? I'm not doing anyone any harm just floating here - bathtubs can be bought, all they need to do is keep away from this one part of the bathroom!" His whining, when he puts his mind to it, is rather impressive and also getting on your nerves; you can see why the owners of the house had called for an extermination. But, then again, you do feel some sympathy for his situation.   
  
"Could you haunt a different bathtub, then? Perhaps one that isn't, well, currently in use by the living members of this house that - might I remind you - you do not own?"  
  
He slumps down further, looking guilty. His ghostly fingers curl over the rim of the tub, while only the top half of his face is visible from where you're standing. He's doing his best apologetic puppy look, and the fins really aren't helping your resolve.   
  
"All right, how about this?" You give in much faster than you'd expected you would. "I help you relocate, and you promise to let go of this bathtub without any fuss." He visibly perks up at this, nodding gratefully.   
  
"So you aren't going to kill me, then?"  
  
Kill isn't quite the right term, but you let it go. You offer him a slight smile as you reassure him: "No, I won't."


	10. Sollux/Gamzee, fucking up a computer store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by miss_lalonde  
> "Sollux/Gamzee.  
> Sollux Captor is a manager in a shitty computer store and hires Gamzee on a whim. Gamzee proceeds to clumsily fuck everything up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of injuries  
> Word Count: 401

"What possessed me to hire him, again? Please remind me before -" Sollux is cut off by the shattering sound of yet another expensive computer part, and Karkat winces beside him.   
  
"I don't have a fucking clue." Karkat frowns as Gamzee starts to meander over, likely to apologize again. "I mean, he is a friend of mine and that could be the reason if it weren't for the fact that I never asked you to hire him and you don't do favours anyway."  
  
"Yeah, okay. So  _why_." Sollux grimaces as they watch Gamzee stumble and almost put his hand through a computer screen. "Why."  
  
Karkat, instead of answering, opts to clap him on the shoulder and take his leave. Gamzee grins sheepishly at Sollux, all guilt and "I'll never do it again, I swear" until he wobbles and actually  _does_  put his arm through the computer screen. He pulls it out and there are scratches all up it, God help Sollux.   
  
"Oh my God, come here," Sollux grinds out through clenched teeth, and Gamzee obeys, thankfully without destroying anything else.   
  
"Sorry, bro. I guess I'm just all up and motherfucking getting my clumsy on, is all."   
  
"Clumsy is the understatement of the century. Seriously, how do you keep from fucking getting yourself killed walking down the street?" To Sollux's surprise, Gamzee chuckles at this.   
  
"That's all being exactly the words Karkat's throwing at me on a motherfucking daily basis, they are. Miracles."  
  
Sollux pinches the bridge of his nose and pulls out the first-aid kit. "Just... Be more careful, okay?" He is well aware that this request is about as helpful as asking a bulldozer to try and please not roll over that anthill directly in front of it without stopping or changing direction.   
  
"Why did I hire you?" Sollux moans again, pitifully. He wraps a few last inches of bandages around Gamzee's arm and lets him go, after which Gamzee promptly falls over and sits on a laptop, startling badly at the noise.   
  
"I dunno, man. You all up and took pity on a motherfucker, I guess?" Gamzee shrugs, getting up off of the ruined laptop and wobbling over to brush against and knock over a shelf.   
  
That might be it, but for the fact that Sollux doesn't let pity factor in on important decisions, like he doesn't do favours. God, this is going to be a long day.


	11. Davesprite♠GCAT, three inches tall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 3: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by sockpupett  
> "Davesprite♠Gcat  
> An AU where Davesprite is three inches tall and Gcat finds him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of death  
> Word Count: 401

Just his luck. No, it doesn't stop with being a three-inch-tall knockoff Dave with orange feathers and no legs. No, a sword through his stomach and apple-juice blood isn't enough. No. The  _cat_  chasing him through trees and snow also had to be a First Guardian.   
  
GCAT wins Least Favourite First Guardian in Davesprite's books, and that's saying something. Seeing as how Bec still freaks him out by trying to jump on him and lick him with that snout that bears too much resemblance to Jack Noir, and Rose's accounts of Doc Scratch place him as creepy cue ball puppet thing that works for Lord English.   
  
What is up with the cat's obsession over him anyway? Sure, he resembles a bird and he's small and moves around too much for his own good. That doesn't mean the cat has to chase him across an entire planet trying to catch him.   
  
He misses LOHAC. At least there it's warm and there aren't any trees to crash into, only perilous lava everywhere you look. Good planet, best place-to-not-be-chased-by-omnipotent-green-glowing-teleporting-cats.   
  
Oh. Hey. Omnipotent, teleporting. If the cat wants him that badly (for what, even, he doesn't know - to eat? No thanks) then it could've gotten him long before now. The cat's playing with him - cat-and-mouse, or cat-and-freakishly orange doomed tiny bird sprite Dave.   
  
Well, okay. At least he isn't going to die soon. Maybe later, but at least not soon. Then again, there goes the hope that it'll end quickly.   
  
A crack-pop sounds from immediately behind him and he doubles his pace, wings fluttering uselessly as he propels himself forward with sprite powers. A playful hiss from his right, then a white paw directly in front of him. Even without factoring in teleportation, he's screwed.   
  
He throws himself to the left, away from where he thinks the cat might be, and promptly runs himself up against a tree. Ow. He turns and zips around it, thinking of nothing but to just get away from the goddamned meowing.   
  
After what seems like an hour of dodging and absconding, a tail whips him out of the air and he lands facedown. A paw pins him to the ground, and all he can think is that he hopes he doesn't taste like chicken.   
  
Then the landscape around them changes, and the paw lifts, batting him into the air.  
  
The cat wants a chase around LOWAS, now. Lovely.


	12. Jane♥Nepeta, robot bunnies and catburglars and gumshoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round: Alternate Universes  
> Prompted by outstretched  
> "Jane ♥ Nepeta  
> An AU where the famous catburglar Nepeta is out to steal the most advanced robot bunny on the planet, and Jane is the hardened gumshoe out to catch her in the act."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 400

You are the best catburglar, it is you. And this catburglary may well be the most important thing in your career. That is, of course, assuming that you can pull it off. 

You are a hardened gumshoe, and this catburglar has been the source of worry for the police for ages. She must not be allowed to roam free any longer! That is, of course, assuming that you can capture her. 

You are the catburglar and you are just minutes away from getting your paws on that deliciously expensive robot bunny. (It helps that it's adorable, too!) You can just feel the tingle of victory that will come when you've succeeded. 

You are the gumshoe, and you've just received an anonymous tip. You are so close to apprehending the thief that you almost let yourself be overwhelmed by excitement. But a detective must always stay focused. 

You are the catburglar, and the robot bunny is in sight. If you could just creep forward, a little closer...

You are the gumshoe, and you have been lying in wait for hours. All the work on the case has come to this one moment of suspense - you can see the burglar's hand from around that corner. Just if she moves a little further...

You are the catburglar, and you and the gumshoe have spotted each other at exactly the same time. Neither of you dare to move, because you've staked so much on this caper and letting it go down the drain is not an option. 

But you, the gumshoe, can't help but notice how different she is from what you'd expected. She looks so young, about your age, and frightened to be in this position. Frightened like you. 

So determined to be here, too. So much is weighing on her shoulders, like so much is on yours. 

The catburglar has heard of the gumshoe dogging her heels, and the gumshoe has read witness reports of the catburglar's skill and stealth. But, well, but. 

She's not what you expected, either of you, and somehow that makes you both unable to move. 

You are both the catburglar and the gumshoe, and you slink back to where you had been a moment before. There is the promise in the shared silence that next time, next time you will both do what you must. 

But for now, you let all your work go down the drain.


	13. Gamzee♦Karkat, those dancing thought to be insane by those who couldn't hear the music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by hellahana  
> "Gamzee♦Karkat  
> And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.  
> \- Friedrich Nietzsche"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 540

"Hey, Karkat?"  
  
You look up from where you're lying beside him in the pile. He's quiet and serious, and that doesn't happen often, so you're a little apprehensive. "Yeah?"  
  
"Do you want to dance?" He's not looking at you - his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. You're pretty sure there isn't anything interesting up there, but he's making it seem like there is, so you discreetly flick your eyes up and then back down. Nope, nothing there.   
  
It takes a moment before you register what he's asking you. "Dance?" He nods. "Gamzee, there's no music." You wait for him to say something like 'it's fine, we can all up and alchemize some sick beats' or to laugh and say you're right, he forgot that was a thing what you needed before you could dance. Instead, he nods again.   
  
"I know." Moments pass in silence as you wait for him to elaborate, but he just turns to you and looks at you and you fall in pale all over again. His eyes are hesitating, waiting for when-not-if you decide that this is a waste of your time and you'd rather be hanging out with Dave or Kanaya or Terezi. You melt a little and put a hand on his cheek.   
  
"Hey, that's fine. Which asshole decided that music was a prerequisite for dancing, anyway? I'm pretty sure you can't dance to music if you're deaf, right, so doesn't that mean we can dance without it too?" He responds with the largest grin you've seen for a while and drapes himself all over you in a hug. "Ow, fuck, get off."  
  
He's a good deal less hesitant now when he bounces off the pile and pulls you up - and that's good, you're glad, hesitant isn't a good look on him anyway - and then you're both standing together, fingers tangled and with exactly zero idea what to do next.   
  
He moves first, which is a surprise. A hand settles on the small of your back, and the other takes your hand but doesn't move it up to shoulder height, and you're pretty sure that isn't a proper dancing position but you aren't going to say anything about it when he looks this focused. You reach up with your remaining hand and put it on his back, and then he starts to dance.   
  
The way he's moving feels like there's music after all, and you're the only one who can't hear it. You're pretty sure you can't dance like this without music, and with Gamzee's level of coordination, well. You ask.   
  
"Gamzee - Gamzee?" He blinks and looks up, at you, and you both stop moving. "What are you - what are we dancing to?"  
  
The corner of his mouth tips down a little. After a few more beats, he shrugs. "I haven't got a motherfucking clue," he admits. His eyes won't meet yours, but you only let yourself be concerned for a second - if music is the biggest thing he's lying to you about, then that's all you can wish for. His expression is worried when he continues: "Is that okay?"  
  
"Of course." You let go of his back to pat him on the nose. "Of course it is."


	14. Dave♥Terezi, keep one's word by never giving it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by hellahana  
> "Dave<3Terezi  
> The best way to keep one's word is not to give it.  
> \- Napoleon Bonaparte"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 902

He makes no promises. Even in his long-winded, rambling, ranting monologues he makes sure there is never anything even closely resembling a promise slipping out. A part of you wants to be impressed at his dedication and constant vigilance; the other part is afraid of what this means.   
  
There is never any talk of the future, no plans for anything more than a day away, no declarations of intention to stay and to love. You would be fine with that - those things never interested you anyway - but for the noticeable intentional avoidance from him. It's too deliberate to be coincidental, and Dave really doesn't seem the type to be this careful about just anything - so what is this, then?  
  
You don't know what it means. Eventually, the part that's impressed - the legislacerator part - joins in the wanting to know. Curiosity is a better motivator than red chalk, most days. Quite unfortunately, though, this is nothing like your scalemate crimes. There is no action to take besides asking him, and you don't want to do that yet. Save it for a last resort.   
  
So there is thinking to do here, and watching. Well, figurative watching, anyway. More listening than anything else: paying attention to how he words his sentences, to the spaces in between lines, to stutters and sudden stops and changing subjects. You still don't say anything about it, but this mystery has you engrossed - why does Dave Strider never make any promises?  
  
(It's easier to throw yourself nose-first into an investigation than to sit around being hurt and scared and all those useless things.)  
  
You take to following him around discreetly. He talks to the mayor, Rose, Karkat, Kanaya. He tells the mayor that Cantown is coming along nicely, says he'll make additions tomorrow and report back. Asks Rose how the hunt for apple juice alchemiter codes is going, and frowns at her bottles on the counter and the way she sways and slurs her words. Irritates Karkat with practised skill and artfully dances around potentially embarrassing conversations. Offers to help Kanaya with organizing and inquires, in a low voice, about Rose.   
  
Comes back to find you and almost smiles. You slobber up his face in greeting and he shoves ineffectually, and all is right with the world until he starts talking and you have to notice the way he never, ever, makes a promise. You trail around after him for a few days, but not much else happens. He does follow up on all his next-day promises, though, as if trying to make up for something. You stop after the fourth day and spend more time with your chalk, trying to draw up possible conclusions.   
  
You come up with precisely jack shit, at the end of the day. You simply don't know him well enough - you're not his moirail, anyway, so you shouldn't have to. Except in times like these, when a question is eating away at you, it sure would be helpful to have something to go off of. Watching through Trollian only gives you so much - it wasn't as if you could read the kid's mind.   
  
You thought you had done a decent job of not letting him know he was being followed, but he must have had ninja training from his human lusus or something because he confronts you about it on the sixth day. You had thought it would be the other way around, when any confronting happened. Well. You've been wrong about a good few things, recently.   
  
He expresses concern and confusion as to why you stalked him for a few days and then dropped it just as suddenly. In many more words than that, obviously, and not very seriously. You both try to never be serious, because that would be boring. But, in this situation, you may well have to be.   
  
You answer with a sharpish grin and say it's nothing for the coolkid to worry about, but the mighty legislacerator has a few questions for him. He says go ahead, he's not hiding anything illegal, the legiswhatsits can do all the poking she wants.   
  
You hesitate a little, and you can practically smell his guard go up, defences on high alert, warning, warning, Terezi's not acting normal. You frown at this and just come straight-out and ask: why does he never promise anyone anything?  
  
He doesn't try to stall or skirt around it or ask you what you're talking about. He huffs a defeated little sigh and asks why you need to know. You say it's your right, as his matesprit, and as only remaining legislacerator.   
  
He says he's tired of having to break his word.   
  
He's told John that things would turn out fine, told Jade that he'll be all right, told all kinds of people all kinds of things and it feels like he's lied to them every time the game or paradox space screws them over again.   
  
He says he's tired of lying, so he just avoids saying things that might become lies later on. You chew at your lip and consider telling him that's stupid - or maybe say something like you'll help him make sure his promises won't break, in the interests of  _justice_? In the end you decide that you're not his moirail, you're his matesprit, and you snuggle up next to him and peck him on the cheek.


	15. Karkat♦Gamzee, dog teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by mangoeclipse  
> "Karkat♦Gamzee  
> "You're cold on the inside,  
> there's a dog in your heart  
> and it tells you to tear everything apart.
> 
> My body's covered in teeth marks.  
> Your bite's worse than your bark.  
> You ruin everything you touch and  
> destroy anyone you love.  
> You're all over me." -Nicole Dollanganger, Dogteeth"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Blood, (maybe) Self Harm  
> Word Count: 574

Some days Gamzee isn't himself, and some days he's too much himself. You don't really know who he is anymore, but times like these it feels like you do. He's the spaced-out, forgiving, lazy-slow Gamzee who watches the world go by and doesn't react when it hurts him; he's the sharp-edges, angry, quick blur of a boy who hurts the world when it tries to run away from him. You're his moirail, and you're pale for both of him, but most especially the in-between Gamzee: the one who isn't quite sure of himself and has his guard up and sometimes reacts too quickly, but is, most importantly, pale for you back.   
  
Right now he's not that Gamzee. Right now, he's spitting and cursing and his claws dig into his palms for lack of a better surface to sink into, and his mouth curls into a snarl that shows far too many teeth. You hate it when he gets like this, but you can't bring yourself to hate him. Everyone else on the meteor can, though, so it's your responsibility to get him out of the way before someone comes and sees him and mistakes his intentions. (Because Gamzee hates it when he gets like this, too - it's part of why he's angry, winding himself up until he snaps.)  
  
You reach out to catch him by the elbow, bite down the urge to flee when he scratches your hand and that bright mutant blood comes spilling out - everyone already knows, and, besides, the only ones here to see it are preoccupied with much more important things than blood. Well, not the colour of blood, anyway - when Gamzee gets like this he doesn't care whose blood he spills. Not even when it's his own, which means it's that much more important to get him away from himself and possibly in a nice pile, asleep.   
  
He has different ideas. You tug on the elbow and he turns his neck to snap at you, and any attempts to shooshpap him into submission are met with snapping teeth and more claws. You're dripping red from your cheek and your arms and all of your fingers now, but there's purple mixed in there too from when he misses or rips out a claw catching it on your sleeve. There's no reasoning with him when he's like this, and so you go all out and throw yourself on him.   
  
You right hand catches his wrist, squeezes it to get his attention. His eyes are wild and panicked, and more angry  _motherfucker_ s spill from his lips. His only priority is to rip and tear and  _hurt_ , and you're just in the way. The two of you tumble to the ground and you catch his other wrist, too, pin him down and wait as he thrashes and tries to kick at your stomach. You stare at him with your best disapproving moirail look, and, when that doesn't work, your I-am-leader-and-can-also-hurt-you-very-badly-in-this-position look.   
  
His struggling gets weaker as minutes tick by. A thin trail of purple slides down from the corner of his mouth, where he'd nicked his lip with a fang in the confusion. Finally his breathing starts to slow, and then he can't meet your eyes.   
  
"Sorry, m'sorry, motherfucking sorry, Karkat." The last word is a plea, but you're tired and bleeding and you know this will happen all over again tomorrow, so all you spare him is a sigh.


	16. Dave♥Jade, girl kissed boy first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by sparklezpotatoes  
> "Dave♥Jade  
> "I just want to point out one thing here: When was the last time the girl kissed the boy in a teen romance? Ever? Has it happened ever? I seriously think it might not have happened ever."-John Green"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 528

You're going to a park. Jade insisted. None of that movie or restaurant stuff, she said - it would be distracting and not casual enough. You don't mind this at all, because the park is free and you're running on a teenager's allowance. It's nice and empty of people, too.   
  
Of course, empty of people doesn't mean empty of animals. Birds, especially; they tend to flock to you like it's Halloween and you are the only house with lights on in the entire street, and they are all hungry little costumed children desperate for candy and you're handing out cheap licorice like it's going out of season and really you just want to be rid of all these flailing kids but you girlfriend insisted and now a mummy's throwing up on your shoes.   
  
Ahem. Not the time for reminiscing - there's a date to go on, walks to be had. Can walks be had? It's a noun, after all, and the test for whether or not something is a noun that you learned in elementary school is to determine whether or not you can have it.   
  
You ask Jade. She scoffs and says of course! But then frowns and says she's really not all that certain because she's a  _scientist_ , not an English teacher, and why are we talking about this again, Dave? You shrug and look at her all wide-eyed over the top of your shades like she's the one who went off on a tangent about it, don't look like that. She laughs and drops it.   
  
You arrive at this nice little pond thing, and there are ducks and crows and pigeons and seagulls and there they go, flocking to you like nobody's business. You can't throw food at them to distract them, either, because there is a large and prominently displayed sign stating the illegalness of feeding the animals, and who would be so stupid to disobey a sign when it's right there, watching you? You slip the crows a few crumbs from that sandwich you used to have in your pocket. Jade glares at you in disapproval, but you ignore her because she secretly feeds the squirrels in your back yard all the time. The little assholes are getting spoiled; you should probably tell her to stop.   
  
Your final destination on this trip is a nice little bench next to a fountain. No birds, too, what a treat. You sit for a bit, fingers intertwined, just you rambling on about something-or-other that happened the other day and her interrupting you at regular intervals to give her input. All nice and calm and usual, so your guard is completely down when she leans over and kisses you, out of the blue.   
  
On the mouth. With her mouth. For a good while.   
  
You blink at her as she pulls away, and she just grins and delivers some cheesy line about you talking too much, when you both know your opinion on atoms and things is much more valid than hers because it's your story, thank you very much. You open your mouth to argue this fact and she kisses you again. You decide that's fine too.


	17. Feferi♦Vriska, kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by dustkitty  
> "Feferi♥Vriska  
> The tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks  
> And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts  
> \- Florence and the Machine, Hardest of Hearts"
> 
> (Whoops just now noticed I filled it in the wrong quadrant)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of bullying/harassment  
> Word Count: 592

She's infuriating. She's the only one who ever talked back at you and had it  _work_ ; she's a pretty little princess so much higher than you on the stupid hemospectrum; she just wants to  _help_ , and don't you know you're making it difficult with all your lies and backstabbing thievery?  
  
So you're infuriating back, and somehow this causes the two of you to fall in moirallegiance. It's possibly the most unexpected pairing ever, and you bet even kittycat shippergirl didn't see it coming. But it works, and you don't really know how or why but you think you kind of like it.   
  
It always starts with her. You're all busy, minding your own business and bothering no one, doing something harmless like tormenting Tavros or baiting Terezi. You've got lots of irons in the fire, you know, and some of them are interpersonal relationships. Of course, things don't always work out - these wimps tend to hold grudges for far too long. The universe has ended, for god's sake, and they're  _still_  on about the same thing that happened while you were kids?  
  
(Granted, you're still kids now, but that doesn't make it any less upsetting.)  
  
Oh, but, of course. Vriska Serket can't be upset. Vriska Serket, like the great Mindfang, is strong and fearless and the most competent troll on this entire meteor! You're not upset by anything, much less stupid "friends" like them.   
  
But she always seems to know when you're upse- when you're done with dealing with exasperating fools and need some time to yourself.  _Yourself_ , you emphasize, hoping that she'll leave you alone. But she never does, and that makes you feel... better?  
  
It's on one such particularly  _exasperating_  day that she manages to corner you into a pile of miscellaneous objects. You're too tired to resist, so you lie flopped on your back while she mutters quiet reassurances and tells you things will be better, she's here to help. She can make it better. And then she starts  _touching_  you. And you let her. Soft taps, only the most ephemeral of contact - a pat on an arm there, a finger trailing down your jawbone there. She brushes the backs of her hands down your cheeks, smooths the hair out of your eyes.   
  
Places soft, soft kisses on your forehead, and it's then that you push her away, abscond out of there and lock yourself in the furthest room from her.   
  
Days pass, and pressure builds. You need to do all these things, and these idiots, these utterly incompetent wrigglers,  _your friends_ , get in your way so much it could be said that they hate you. Fine. F8ne. You hate them too.   
  
And all the while you stalk around the halls in fury, shoulders hunched, the places where she ran her fingers across hum and ache with comfort and the need to completely understand this princess with her priorities all messed up and one moirallegiance already buried six feet under.   
  
She forgets to seek you out, so you go and find her instead. She sees you and smiles and looks  _glad_  you're there, for some completely incomprehensible reason, and you forget your composure and cry into her neck.   
  
The soft kisses she plants on the top of your head only make you sob harder, and she doesn't seem to mind that her finery is soaked in cerulean tears. She only smiles at you and whispers lies in your ear and hugs you harder, like you'll fly off into the void if she lets go.   
  
You let her.


	18. Eridan/Feferi, half angry, in love, and sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by equiborn  
> "Eridan/Feferi  
> “Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 559

It's a few days after your breakup that you see her at the supermarket. She's as beautiful as she'd ever been, but you're facing her instead of beside her and that hurts like everything else has over the past few days. She starts talking, and you don't even consider the possibility of not listening, of turning away and forgetting her.   
  
You're angry, she says, and she doesn't want that to be true. It is, though, and if she doesn't want that why'd she break up with you in the first place? You seethe, but quietly, so you can carry on listening. (You  _are_  angry. You are angry like the wind when the tide refuses to cooperate, and it's the anger that sinks ships, not the cold kind that builds icebergs. You'd like to hurt something, you think.)  
  
But angry isn't all you are right now. You watch her face when she pleads with you to still be friends - never, ever will that work out, what planet is she living on? - and her hair as she plays with it and the way she's missing another few bangles today because she donated to local charities again. You're still in love with her, kind of, but it isn't the hopeful kind of love that you'd been in when you were still with her.   
  
She's still talking, saying things that you already know. How bad you were for one another, how she believes in true love but thinks that wasn't it. You know, you know. That's why you aren't begging for her back, because you know it will end up like this again in two weeks (at most), and you don't want that. You're not as hopelessly stupid as she thinks you are - you are just  _in love_.   
  
When she stops and looks at you expectantly you do not plan for your response to be "sorry. I'm sorry, and I'm not asking for that back because it was bad and I know that, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to turn out this way, I'm sorry you didn't like me enough back and I'm sorry I wasted years thinking you would. I'm sorry that you had to pick up all my messes, but I'm also sorry that I didn't see that it was all you were doing for me."  
  
"I'm sorry I won't forgive you," she says, and it's soft like the ocean in a good mood and you're still half in love and angry at yourself for not being the right person. "I'm sorry, Eridan, that we both ended up like this."  
  
"That's okay, Fef," you say, because it's almost tradition at this point that you'll forgive her before she can ask for it. "S'not your fault. I'm just sorry, one last time, that I'm leaving and this is my last apology." Because you owe her more of them, and you deserve more than staying and pining, and you just don't think you can take any more of this bumping into Feferi at the grocery store and not being  _with_  her anymore. Years, okay,  _years_. How did it take the two of you this long to figure it out?  
  
She smiles an understanding smile, and you're glad your last glimpse is something positive as you turn and you walk away from the past three years of your life.


	19. Terezi♥Vriska, justice and force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by originalpyromaniac  
> "Terezi<3Vriska  
> "Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical." --Blaise Pascal"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of killing  
> Word Count: 479

Back in the days when you all FLARPed without much incident, others used to whisper about you. The Scourge Sisters, they said, are a force to be reckoned with. But have you seen them apart? Have you met them, even only talked to them, when one was without the other? They are a force to be reckoned with, together, but they are  _terrifying_  apart.   
  
She's all talk and no bite, they said, but those teeth are enough to make anyone reconsider. She's a dragon and she does not tolerate injustice, so fear her.   
  
You're all kill and no mercy. You are reckless and impossible to placate, and you laugh in their faces when they try to reason with you. Spiders, they said, cannot be trusted.   
  
But she's useless if she refuses to bite, and you're bound to burn yourself out too fast without something reining you in. (And not worn out physically, no. You kill and that does something to your mind, you think.)  
  
In the game, she hadn't forgiven you yet. You are again as reckless and loose-cannon as you were when she wasn't around, and that isn't good for anyone, including yourself. (She seems happy enough, but maybe the right sequence of events hadn't hit her just yet.)  
  
You are a lonely spider, and she is a lost dragon.   
  
On the meteor, she is still convinced of your crimes. And so are you - yeah, you did bad things, can we get over that now? So she finds you and frowns at you and says:  
  
"Miss Blueberry Spider, if you don't accept my terms and repent your ways, then things will be wrong and I won't know how to fix them."  
  
"Miss Mighty Dragon," you answer. "Who said anything about fixing? We're fine the way we are, it's just that we're so much better together." I miss you, you're saying. Do you miss me?  
  
She frowns harder, shakes her head. "No. We're not  _better_  together, we're more efficient. This just depends on whether you want to be  _better_ , or if you want to carry on as we were without 'needing any fixing'."  
  
"Oh, but really. You can't say we weren't good for each other," you argue, because it looks like you're losing and that is not allowed.   
  
"We aren't. We're good for other people when we're together. Relative to our not being together, that is." We hurt people, Vriska, is the age-old argument. Why can't you see that we're still better off not existing at all?  
  
You huff and decide that you're both arguing the exact same side from different angles. She'll just have to change hers, then, because you're not moving. Except maybe to tug her closer and draw her into a kiss, and it's evidence in favour of the case you're making when she kisses back, easily as anything. She missed you - court dismissed.


	20. John♦Rose, sucking before becoming sorta good at something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by nobrandhero  
> "John♦Rose  
> "Sucking at something is the first step to becoming sorta good at something" - Jake the Dog"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: None  
> Word Count: 495

It takes a lot of tries to get it right. Anyway, pale romance is a new concept for humans, so you think you should be allowed some leeway there. You go and ask Karkat for advice, but he points out that other humans are managing just fine with these new and unfamiliar concepts without bothering him, and anyway humans do it all the time, just without thinking of it in a romantic way. Well, okay. That sure was helpful. You stick your tongue out at him and go back to tell Rose about it. She laughs a little and pats you on the head all unconcerned, and you pout.   
  
You try the pile thing. She gets her knitting things and you get some pranking things and books and other junk. You think you've overdone it, when it all comes together in some mess of things that are too pointy and things that don't fit well enough in pile formation. Rose shakes her head, a little amused, and you guess it is funny and not as terrible as you'd first thought. You can still kind of... move things around? Yeah, see, that works. You sit together on the pile but you don't get around to talking (having a "feelings jam") because you drift off on Rose's shoulder. Too tired from gathering things, you suppose - that's too bad.   
  
The next time you try an atmosphere of nervousness settles over the both of you, because you want this to be right. You don't want to mess it up, either of you, so you want to do this the right way. She starts out by asking you about your dreams, and you tell her but it all feels a little awkward, like you're not supposed to be playing at therapist and patient. It's supposed to be, like - just talking, you guess.   
  
It's a nightmare, or something one of the other trolls said to you - one of the ones you don't know all that well yet - and you don't really remember which one it is, later on (it could have been both, actually, with things like dreambubbles). All that matters is that you run straight to Rose, and she doesn't ask you what you're doing or why you're there - she just wraps her arms around you and asks you what's wrong, and you tell her, and then you go on telling her other things. Everything that's been bothering you, all the way back to the start of the game, even, and she listens and says all the right things and you fall asleep in her arms.   
  
Later, when you've more or less gotten the hang of this thing, she tells you things, too. You're not as good as she is at offering comfort - though she tells you you're doing just fine - but you try anyway, and you think you're doing this right. You don't even need a pile, most times.   
  
You just talk.


	21. Dave♥Jade♥John♥Rose, miles to go before I sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by liasangria  
> "Dave♥Jade♥John♥Rose  
> "The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
> But I have promises to keep,  
> And miles to go before I sleep,  
> And miles to go before I sleep."  
> -Robert Frost, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening""

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of suicide, mentions of death, implied concupiscent incest  
> Word Count: 609

There are so many opportunities to give up, so many chances to let themselves be swallowed by a doomed timeline. To let some other version of them work it out.   
  
John thinks, sometimes, that he could stop. He could stop doing quests or looking for the tumor or following instructions or whatever. He could go off on his own, and it might get him killed, but isn't that better, too? If he can stop, and be able to rest for eternity in the dreambubbles. A friendleader's job never ends, and it gets to be a bit much sometimes.   
  
Rose thinks she should have given up a long time ago. She's messed more than a few things up by going grimdark, and a few more besides. If she hadn't been so curious, or so determined to break the game, or too stubborn to take Kanaya's advice. If she hadn't been so  _herself_ , maybe things would have turned out better.   
  
The urge to make more doomed timelines hits Dave sometimes, unexpectedly enough for him to almost do it. It would be so easy to go back, fix something, let an earlier Dave try again. Let someone else (himself) try to be a hero, have another shot at things. To just let go and abuse his powers enough that the game might let them be happy, for once.   
  
Jade thinks she's made too many mistakes, and she envies her dreamself too much to be healthy.  _She_  made friends in the dreambubbles,  _she_  had the chance to relax. Her dreamself had that luxury of living (dead) without the burden of responsibility on her shoulders. Seeing the future means an obligation to keep track of it and keep her friends safe, and that's really tiring sometimes.   
  
But they haven't given up yet, and there's only one reason for that.   
  
John knows he can't stop, because, if he did, then what would happen to Dave and Jade and Rose and all the trolls? They're counting on him to do his part, be a good leader, keep everyone from dying. Even if he hasn't done a very good job of that so far - right now, everyone's alive enough for him, and he intends to keep it that way.   
  
Rose thinks that giving up would be an insult to her mother's abilities as a parent. And an insult to her friends' abilities to keep her in line, and an insult to her own strength. She thinks that giving up is a weak choice, and so she will keep going to honor the memory of her mother, and the efforts of all her friends.   
  
Dave remembers that the doomed timeline rule isn't because he will die - Dead Daves Are The Enemy is a reminder that everyone else in that timeline offshoot will cease to exist as well. Alternate John, or Alternate Jade, or Alternate Rose - their lives are not his to play with, and so his own isn't his either. Doomed timelines are to be avoided at all costs, for the sake of those three.   
  
Jade decides that being alive is better, because where would everyone else be if not for her? Worse off, for sure, just like she wouldn't be here now if not for the combined efforts of Rose and Dave and John. They help her and she helps them, and that would be impossible if she had chosen to join her dreamself in the bubbles.   
  
They made promises to keep each other safe, and themselves safe for the sake of everyone else. They can't give up, because that would mean breaking those promises.   
  
They'll keep going, because they can handle it together.


	22. Karkat♦Gamzee, nowhere man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by mangoeclipse  
> "Karkat♦Gamzee  
> "He's a real nowhere man  
> Sitting in his nowhere land  
> Making all his nowhere plans for nobody"-The Beatles, Nowhere man "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of death  
> Word Count: 416

It's a quiet day - everyone else on the meteor has their own business to attend to, and no one has crossed paths with you all morning. You're wandering the hallways and systematically checking every room, as had become habit since Gamzee went into hiding. You're not really expecting to find him - which is good, you would worry if he wasn't good at staying hidden - but when you open the ninth door he's there, sprawled on a pile of horns.   
  
His head lifts slowly and you can tell it's going to be a slow day, less pacifying tense limbs and more just sitting quietly together. It's the kind of day where you keep the clubs away from him in case he trips over them and hurts himself, instead of when you confiscate them to keep him from hurting other people. He blinks at you, mumbles a sleepy greeting, and flops back into the pile.  
  
You sigh. If he's sleepy on top of everything else then there won't be much interaction at all. Not that you mind; it's just that you rarely even see him these days. You let your legs fold and you sink down next to him, settling into a semi-comfortable position.   
  
To your surprise, he starts talking. It's a bit too quiet to really count as talking to you, but since you're his moirail you listen. That's your job, and it's all you're really good for in the end. You close your eyes and pick out more words out of the mumbling the longer you listen; he speaks of a paradise world where everyone is okay and no one dies, where things are the same as they were and everyone is happy, and though not everyone gets along they don't have to be in constant conflict with each other. All the things that your group lost the opportunity to have, at least in part because of you.   
  
You turn your head, open your eyes to look at him. He doesn't notice, keeps mumbling his impossibilities. The longer you watch him, the more it seems he's not with you anymore - he's not with anyone, living in his comfortable land of lies. Still, they are nice lies to listen to, and if you know that it's impossible there can't be any harm in listening.   
  
You drift off to Gamzee's voice, painting fantasies of the best possible scenario for all of you - the one thing that's out of your reach forever now. 


	23. Grimdark!Rose♥John, forgive me for what I do when I don't remember you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by a_dash_of_flask  
> "grimdark!Rose<3John  
> "Please forgive me for whatever I do, when I don't remember you."-Marceline the Vampire Queen, Adventure Time"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Character Death  
> Word Count: 700

You're worried about Rose. It's not just the whole grimdark thing - though that does play a large part. It's the way she didn't react at all when she took you to the corpses, and then the way she doggedly insisted (through gestures and quite a bit of creative guessing on your part) on seeking Jack out. Right away. You wanted to call Dave and Jade in for help, but Rose just growled at you in that weird burbling language and you'd left the issue alone.   
  
When you first ran into her, she'd seemed pretty normal - aside from, you know, the skin and the speech and the dark thorny aura. But as you progressed, especially after Jack failed to be where the bodies of your parents were, she grew more and more single-minded and withdrawn. If you tease her about having to communicate like a dog, she doesn't even humor you with a growly sentence. If anything you do disagrees with her goal - which seems to be hunting down Jack Noir at all costs, immediately - then she snarls at you and the darkness flares and even you know to back down and leave well enough alone.   
  
You think this may be the result of falling deeper into the broodfester throes, but there's nothing you can really do about it. So far, she hasn't threatened you personally anyway, so you think it's okay for you to be trailing after her as she relentlessly searches for the sovereign slayer. She's getting angrier, too; you can tell by the way she's given up on talking to you at all and how the thorns in her shadows seem a lot pointier than they were before. She has her needles out, and you don't dare try and convince her to put them away.   
  
You try to make small talk: about Dave and Jade, about the game, about your parents. The first topic earns you no reaction at all, and the second a glare - presumably to tell you to shut up, she's concentrating. The third one does garner a reaction, though it's not one you would have wanted. She clutches her needles harder and growls something angry-sounding. At the air in front of her, not at you. Something bothers you enough to make you ask her if she knows who you are.   
  
She doesn't give you an exasperated 'John what are you going on about' look. She eyes you warily like she'd forgotten you were there until you started talking (like she has for every time you tried to make conversation in the past hour), and then she -   
  
She turns her weapons on you. You manage to scramble out of the way, using your windy powers, and you float there waiting for her to come after you again. But she loses interest and keeps walking, not even checking to see if you're following. It hits you then, and it hurts.   
  
She doesn't remember who you are anymore. It isn't fair, you think. This is the first time you're meeting in person (aside from when she was sleeping and you were snooping) and it all just strikes you as massively  _unfair_. It wasn't supposed to be like this.   
  
So you make an attempt to stop her. Rose, you say, we should go and see if Dave or Jade knows how to fix you. We could ask the trolls. She doesn't even glance at you. You reach out and catch her arm, and she turns, and  _looks_  at you properly, and you know in that instant. You know that if you run away now you will survive, and because of that you staying to help this friend will be seen as heroic. You can die here, to Rose and her grimdark needles. But if you fly away to get help it may be too late when you manage to find her again.   
  
You stay. Rose, you say, one last time, and then her thorny shadows are rushing towards your neck and you're choking and bleeding and it's too late to run now, everything's turning cold, and the last thing you see is Rose, expression still empty, plunging her needles into your chest.


	24. John♥Grimdark!Rose, I can't escape this now unless you show me how

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by kiwiflavouredbubbles  
> "John♥Grimdark!Rose  
> "Your eyes, they shine so bright  
> I wanna save that light  
> I can't escape this now  
> Unless you show me how"  
> \- Imagine Dragons, "Demons""

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of Canon Character Death, Mentions of Blood  
> Word Count: 400

He's just standing there. You're emitting some kind of darkness and your skin is all gray and he's just standing there, chatting with you and as casual as anything could ever be. You try your best to blurble back, but it's incredibly frustrating to try and be composed and carefully-worded when you're speaking in glubs and  _brup brup_ s. You just can't stand the way he doesn't even flinch, like he's completely trusting you to get a handle on yourself and not accidentally kill him.  _He_  was the one who warned you about the throes, and he should know how dangerous they are. You've gone completely off the deep end in every way, and he grins at you and tries talking to you like you're a dog or something and it just -  
  
The pillow is the wrong shade of purple for your tastes and anyway it reminds you of her, and that can't be a good thing to think about with revenge so close to the forefront of your mind and her blood staining the tablecloth just a few flights up.   
  
You try to tell John things, especially the fact that he should be more careful around you, but it comes out too close to easygoing banter and you are a puppet to the gods of the outer ring, and why can't he see that? His eyes sparkle at you, almost, and he giggles and  _even mentions marriage plans_  and you think you will never understand this boy, and that's okay. You don't need to understand him, as long as he understands you.   
  
But the thing is, when he smiles like there's nothing to worry about in the world and you manage to smile along with him, it doesn't seem that bad. The darkness backs off a little, and Normal You has room to breathe for a few moments. It's getting harder and harder to find these spots of reprieve, as you walk closer to the site of the killing and more time passes. John is as oblivious as ever (which means not really all that much, but enough), so he doesn't notice any shifts in your demeanor.   
  
You're a pretty good actress, anyway, and you can easily let John believe that you're just the same old Rose in darker skin and speaking gobbledygook. After all, putting John in danger is a small price for your temporary relief. Isn't it?


	25. Dirk♦Roxy, not defective just human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 5: Quotes  
> Prompted by kiwiflavouredbubbles  
> "Dirk♦Roxy  
> “You say you're 'depressed' - all i see is resilience. You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human.”   
> ― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Mentions of alcohol  
> Word Count: 492

Her hands are cold. She's been sitting by herself on the floor again. It's a habit carried over from when she didn't care about where she was sitting and/or sleeping because she was drunk, but now she should really know better and you keep telling her she could catch a cold that way but all she does is laugh and tell you you're worrying too much. You're her moirail; you're allowed to worry.   
  
Her hands are cold but you cling on to them, because all you've ever known anyway are cold metal hands and eyes and brains, and at least her hands cling back. She's talking right now, and you're listening, and some days you do the reverse but right now these are your roles and this is what you were born to do, you're sure of it. Just sitting together with Roxy Lalonde and listening to her tell you, in a much quieter voice than either of you are used to hearing from her, about her fears and doubts and even, sparingly, her hopes.   
  
You debunk her doubts: no, she's not a failure for wanting to drink again; she's strong just for resisting the urge. No, she isn't weird for feeling like that; you're lonely or jealous or unreasonably sad all the time, and either way you don't think it's unreasonable when you're both living inside a game as two of the last humans alive, and the only two who know what it's like to truly be alone.   
  
She giggles a little and wipes her eyes and tells you that when you say it like that it sounds all melodramatic and of course it's sad when you put it that way! She points out that she had a large family of carapaces and cats. You point out your robots, and she knows how impersonal they are. You have them, but that doesn't mean it isn't nice (indescribably nice) to have someone human to talk to, someone to hold.   
  
Her hands are cold but the rest of her is warm as she wraps herself around you in a hug that lasts a while, neither of you talking or moving. You breathe in sync. You don't think you'd be able to live if you lost this girl, actually, and that thought scares you.   
  
You whisper in her ear all the different ways she's strong and brave and brilliant for taking on everything life has thrown at her, and then some false reassurances and nice-sounding lies about how things will be better soon and no, you don't think Calliope's dead. These things help, and you don't think about how she can as easily do the same to you. (It's easier to just believe that she wouldn't, that all the words you've been living on are true.) Right now, she's crying into your shoulder and your hands are finally starting to warm up hers, and she is all that matters in the entire (remaining) world.


	26. Jane♣Dirk♣Gamzee, cooking show and murder mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 6: Genre Blending  
> Prompted by aedonrose  
> "Jane♣Dirk♣Gamzee  
> Cooking show and murder mystery"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Death (of an unnamed side character)  
> Word Count: 657

"Add eggs now, and watch the batter turn a nice - What is it, Dirk?" Jane turns to face you, one hand still stirring and the other brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. She's smeared a streak of batter across her forehead, but you don't feel like pointing it out. Gamzee will do plenty of that later (if he even notices).   
  
"Oh, nothing." you shrug. "Just thought I'd best inform you that a murder happened backstage." Jane puts down the spoon and frowns at you, and you watch as she tries to figure out if you're kidding or not.   
  
"Where?" She's decided on the 'not', mostly because she knows you don't usually joke about things like this. Her baking goes in the oven first, of course, before she wipes her hands and puts away the apron. You wait patiently until she's done, and then lead the way down the hall.   
  
"Oh, wait," she says as you pass a suspiciously ajar door, "do you know where Gamzee went? He was supposed to help me with the cake." You frown and shake your head. "Hm. That's awfully suspicious, isn't it?" She looks to you for confirmation and you shrug again.   
  
"You should give the guy more credit. He hasn't murdered anybody since the three of us fell in clubs, and anyway it's only been a while since we saw him last."  
  
"It's only been a while since the murder, too, hasn't it?"  
  
"Well." You arrive at the scene, but Gamzee is already there.   
  
"Hey, sis. I all up and motherfucking lost track of time, sorry I missed the cake." He's lounging up against the wall, and, as predicted, does not notice the batter smear. He also looks unrepentant, which doesn't really help his case.   
  
"Why are you here?" Jane's eyes narrow and she looks about ready to straight-out ask Gamzee why he murdered whoever-it-was-that-was-murdered. Love really does make people blind.   
  
"Well, heard there was a motherfucking murder all up and made itself happen, so I figured you'd both be finding your way here anyhow. This place was what being closer to where I was than your studio, so I stopped here instead." It's possible he's antagonising her on purpose with the grammar misuse. It's possible he does that naturally. It's possible that both are true.   
  
"A murder does not 'make itself happen', Gamzee. Someone has to commit it." She hardly even glances at the corpse or the evidence around the scene. If an assistant hadn't made his way over to speak with her, she would have most likely had a pair of handcuffs on Gamzee and be done with the matter already.   
  
"Ma'am. It seems the murder was committed half an hour ago - which is just after your show started, by the way - and the only people in the building without an alibi are Misters Dirk Strider and Gamzee Makara. And, uh, you, ma'am." Jane nods and thanks the boy, and he scurries off.   
  
"I have an alibi in the form of a recording and a cake in the oven, and I am capable of knowing whether or not I murdered someone. So, clearly, the culprit is you." She points a triumphant finger at Gamzee, who chuckles.   
  
"Oh, so that's what you were motherfucking getting at, sis. Nah, I've got myself an alibi too. I was getting my chill on with Karkat up until I noticed the time, and he up and walked me all the way here. Haven't gotten my leaving on since. You can ask him, if that's what you're wanting."  
  
Jane frowns. "Wait. If you and I both have an alibi, then... Who was the killer?" Her eyes wander to the puppet sitting on the corpse, and then to the katana marked 'murder weapon'. And then to you.   
  
"Don't you have a cake to check up on?" She blinks, confused, and you take the chance to grab Lil Cal and run.


	27. Aradia♦Sollux, romcom and psychological horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 6: Genre Blending  
> Prompted by miss_lalonde  
> "Aradia♦Sollux  
> Rom Com + psychological horror"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Character Death, Blood  
> Word Count: 476  
> Note: This probably isn't how psychological horror works, I'm sorry.

You nervously readjust a pillow on the pile for the tenth time. Sollux is visiting your hive today, and you want your living quarters to make a good first impression. Oh dear, what if he doesn't like the decorative skull display case you have in the livingblock? Too late to do anything about it - the doorbell rings.   
  
"Hey, AA." He raises a hand in greeting. "Are you okay? You look kind of... tired." You guess you probably do, what with the dark circles under your eyes and your pale-gray complexion. You just haven't slept in a while, is all. You laugh and wave it off.   
  
"Ah, I'm okay. Don't worry! Here, come in." You lead him through the entryway and into the livingblock. Unfortunately, he does seem unhappy with the skulls. You knew it.   
  
"Uh, AA - are the eye sockets supposed to glow and shake ominously?"  
  
"Of course not!" You laugh at his silly presumption, and don't bother looking over at the skulls. "They're dead, they won't move at all. Don't worry!"  
  
"No, that's not what I meant - what are those?" You've entered the hallway. Oh, dear - it looks like you neglected to clean up. There are bones littering the ground, and there's no room to walk! How irresponsible of you. You kick a few to the side to clear a path.   
  
"Oh no, Sollux, I'm sorry. You know how I collect the fossils I dig up, and sometimes I just run out of room."  
  
"But are those ones in the corner supposed to still have blood and gristle on them?" His fears seems to be bordering on absurd now. Also, he looks kind of sick for some reason.   
  
"Of course not, they've been buried for centuries. Don't be ridiculous."  
  
The two of you pass through the food-preparation block. He's walking a bit behind you now and glancing around anxiously. Suddenly his fingers catch your sleeve and he stops walking.   
  
"AA, did you hear that?"  
  
"Hear what?" You stop and listen, but the only sounds are the wind outside and creaking floorboards. That's funny - they kind of sound like moaning and whispering.   
  
"... never mind," he mutters. "Let's just keep walking."  
  
You reach your respiteblock at last, and thankfully Sollux doesn't have any qualms about this room. "Look, I made a pile." You gesture towards it. "We could... sit on it, if you want?" Doubts suddenly overwhelm you. What if he doesn't want to? What if you've made assumptions and your relationship hasn't reached that stage yet? Oh, no -  
  
He grabs your hand. "Nice pile-making skills. It would be a shame to waste them." You smile and settle down on the pile with him. All is well until he frowns down at your intertwined fingers.   
  
"AA, why are your hands so cold?"  
  
"Oh, that's just because I'm dead. Don't worry!"


	28. John♥Roxy, mystery and fable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 6: Genre Blending  
> Prompted by sparklezpotatoes  
> "John♥Roxy  
> Mystery + fable (with everyone as animals and everything)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Character/Animal Death  
> Word Count: 417  
> (Dog - John, Cat - Roxy, Crow - Dirk, Rabbit - Jane, Wolf - Jake)

Once there was a dog who liked to stick his nose in things that didn't concern him in the slightest. He was walking down the road when he met a slightly intoxicated cat, making vaguely distressed noises and peering down a well.   
  
"What is it? What's the matter?" asked the dog. The cat wailed and looked up from the well to answer:  
  
"It's my friend, Rabbit. She's dud - dead at the bottom of the well. And she was baking jushk - just this morning." The cat sniffled. "I guess we'll have to bury her."  
  
"Wait," said the dog. "Don't we need to find out what killed her?"  
  
"What killed her? Don't be silly," replied the cat. "Obshv - obviously she just tripped on her way to get water for her cake ad - and fell down into the well."  
  
"But..." The dog was about to point out the rather obvious puncture marks on the rabbit's body, which could not have possibly been caused by falling into a well, when a crow flew in.   
  
"That's right," the crow said. "That's exactly what happened. I saw it all from my perch up there." He pointed to a tree with a bloodstained talon.   
  
The cat nodded at the crow. "Right. So that's exat - exactly what happened. You can leave now," she told the dog.   
  
"But..." The dog was rather disturbed by this turn of events, but he was determined not to show it. "You were upset by your friend's death, and I just want to help. It doesn't look like Rabbit died a natural death at all!" The dog looked down the well again, putting his paws on the rim. "It looks like someone killed her and threw her down the well."  
  
"Oh, dear," the cat sighed. "It looks like we'll have to get rid of you, too. That's too bad, you seemed so nice. I liked you." That's odd, thought the dog. She doesn't seem intoxicated at all anymore.   
  
That was the last thing he managed to think before he felt something sharp go through his heart and he fell to the bottom of the well.   
  
"Hello, Crow! Hello, Cat! What a fine morning," said the dog's cousin, Wolf. "Oh, no! It looks like Dog and Rabbit have both fallen down the well! I guess we'll have to bury them."  
  
And that is how the wolf, who didn't question anything, survived longer than the dog, who stuck his nose into things that were none of his business.


	29. Jane♥Rose, paranormal investigation and noir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 6: Genre Blending  
> Prompted by mustachioedoctopus  
> "Jane<3Rose  
> Paranormal investigation/noir"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Death  
> Word Count: 657

Outside, relentless rain casts a dark shadow on everything and reflects the unfortunate state of this city. You pull your hat down over your eyes and sigh. There's not much anyone can do for the endless criminal activity, but you try your best as a private detective to get to the bottom of any cases presented to you.   
  
Still... This one is different. You never put much stock in nonsense like magic or supernatural beings, but there honestly isn't any other way to describe this case. You're still skeptical, of course - there is absolutely no way that paranormal activity actually does exist. You're only taking on this case so you can find out what the truth behind the matter is. You pick up your briefcase and head out the door.   
  
The location is an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. Clearly this sinister-sounding setting would have only fed the rumours, contributing to what built up to be enough for a random murder to be attributed to the fictional "monster" that supposedly lives inside. You're here to dispel these rumours and get the investigation back on track. If that means heading inside alone to prove that there isn't a monster, then so be it.   
  
The interior is as dark as the outside, except there are no streetlamps to cast pools illuminated by faint spotlights. The wind howls through holes in the ceiling, and the entire structure reeks of the damp and the dark. You have to admit that you can see where the rumours are coming from. But you're still adamant on your stance, and you mutter it out loud to yourself:  
  
"There are no monsters here."  
  
As if that was the cue for an entrance, any remaining light from outside is swallowed by a suffocating darkness and, though you can't see anything, there is a strong impression of tentacles and thorns and whispers of things better left unknown. A voice, feminine and soft, drifts from behind you.   
  
"Is that so?" You feel cold air on the back of your neck. "Prove it, then."  
  
You don't hesitate in swinging your briefcase around behind you, and there is a satisfying thump before the darkness flickers out (if such things can happen). From the faint glow of streetlights outside, you make out the outline of... a girl? About your own age, too. And the tentacles are still there, but you decide to ignore them.   
  
"What is the meaning of this?" you demand, holding the briefcase out in front of you like a weapon.   
  
"Ow." She looks up, and a small smile is on her lips. "That was rather rude, wouldn't you say? But I have to admit it was unexpected and efficient. Good job, human."  
  
"So you're the alleged monster? Drop the disguise and come with me. You're under arrest for being a suspect in a murder." To be honest, though, she is not at all what you expected, and these tentacles look nothing like any prop you've ever come across.   
  
"Oh, I'm no monster. But this isn't a disguise, either." She grins and stands up properly, and suddenly you see her: dark skin, and sharp teeth, and the aura around her that seems to absorb any light that even dares think about going near her. "It's all real, I'm afraid."  
  
"What are you?" You frown and step closer, though you should probably be stepping in the opposite direction.   
  
"You're not afraid?" She looks intrigued and amused and she'll probably eat you, you think.   
  
"No. I still have to prove you're not real and solve a murder." Or something. She's kind of pretty, actually.   
  
"Aww, don't be like that. You're actually interesting. How about we forget about murders and sit and just..." The darkness swells and flares around her briefly. "Talk for a bit?" Her smile shows far too many teeth to be enticing, but it still is.   
  
"Okay." You blink and sit, and then everything goes dark.


	30. Aradia/Dave, murder mystery and romcom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round 6: Genre Blending  
> Prompted by mustachioedoctopus  
> "Aradia/Dave  
> Murder mystery/Rom com"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Content Tags: Death, Blood  
> Word Count: 619

You're really not sure how, but it seems like you've just gotten yourself dragged into the investigation of a murder. You're not even a detective or involved with the police at all. You decide to blame it on the cute girl who  _is_ wearing a detective hat and very involved with the police. You also decide to ask her.   
  
"So, wait. Why am I here again?"  
  
"Mister Strider, you've asked that same question three times already! You're helping with the investigation, because, if you weren't, you'd be a suspect!" She grins at you all charming and you sigh.   
  
"I was just hoping I'd get a different answer if I asked again. So, tell me, then. Why aren't I a suspect?" After all, you were hanging around the crime scene when they got there. She hands you a severed hand, and you take it.   
  
"Because you looked interesting, and I needed someone to help." She takes the hand back to set it aside.   
  
"Help with what? Holding all these body parts?" You're seriously starting to doubt her integrity as a detective. Maybe she's actually the murderer! That would be a twist.   
  
"Yes, actually. And someone to bounce my ideas off of." She passes you what looks like hair. You hold it gingerly and decide not to ask what it is.   
  
"So the police are okay with this."  
  
"Well, they have to be. Otherwise they'd be at a complete loss. They're utterly useless without me, but that's okay. This is fun." She smiles at you again.   
  
"Okay, sure." You put the hair down on a dresser when she isn't looking. "So, go ahead and bounce your ideas then. I am the best for idea-bouncing, it's me. I'm a fucking trampoline is what I am. Your ideas don't stand a chance - as soon as they meet me they'll be in space, that's how high they bounce."  
  
She giggles. "See, I knew you would be interesting. A normal person would have run off after seeing all this blood and stuff." And there is certainly blood and stuff. All over the place.   
  
"Man, who the hell would even take the time to do this?"  
  
"That's what I'm trying to figure out, Dave!" She crouches over the corpse again, and you move out of convenient-body-part-passing range.   
  
"Hey, wait. How do you know my name?" You don't remember telling her, and it's not like you're wearing a name tag or anything.  
  
"Because your brother's our primary suspect!"  
  
"Wait, what?" You thought Dirk was, like, a police officer or something. (Huh, you guess you are kind of involved with the police.)  
  
"Haha, just kidding. He's over there. You're kind of famous in the department because he talks about you a lot."  
  
"Huh." Goddamit, Bro. "Okay, so who is the primary suspect, then?"  
  
"That guy over there." She points to a dude with purple in his hair arguing spiritedly with Dirk. "We found him holding the murder weapon and splattered with blood."  
  
"So why are we still investigating, then?" This constant frustration cannot be good for your blood pressure.   
  
"We need a motive," she informs you, cheerfully sticking a finger into a wound on the victim's body. "We can't close the case otherwise."  
  
"Okay, all right, cool." You sigh. Something catches your eye - you pull it out from under a hairbrush. It's a note in purple ink, reading 'youll pay for breaking up wwith me'. "Hey, what's this?" You toss it at her.  
  
"Hm." She looks up at you, pleased. "You just found the motive! Great job."  
  
"Wait, why were you poking the body for a motive? Are you seriously telling me you didn't see the note before?"  
  
"How'd you like to be my official assistant?"


End file.
